


Humiliation Round

by Catbunblue302



Series: Whump for Bunnies [21]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Capture, Chronic Pain, Gen, Torture, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:09:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catbunblue302/pseuds/Catbunblue302
Summary: Sniper's chronic pain picks the worst possible time to flare up.
Series: Whump for Bunnies [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949197
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Humiliation Round

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of prequel/prologue to The Trauma Of A Jackrabbit And A Peacock

“You failed.”

“Piss.” Sniper whispered.

From his nest he could see his team drop their jammed weapons and run. Lately the BLUs had been winning a lot more and the REDs had been getting more and more brutal during the humiliation round.

Most of the BLUs were quick enough to get away, for now, but Medic found himself caught in the midst of his enemies. He held up his hands in surrender but the Soldier wasn’t feeling merciful. He grabbed Medic by the collar and flung him to the dirt. When the German tried to scramble back to his feet Soldier brought his boot down on his shin. The crack of breaking bone was lost under Medic’s scream.

Sniper heard footsteps in the hall. Fuck, he had to move. He pushed himself to feet, leaving his useless rifle behind. If he could just hide for the next, he checked his watch, fifteen minutes the humiliation round would end.

Sniper peeked out into the hall, and seeing no one, crept out. His plan was to creep down to the storage room and hide behind the crates there. He made it halfway there without incident. Just as he was checking around the next corner his back burst into pain and he fell to the floor. Sniper bit his hand to stifle a whimper. His back randomly and frequently hurt but it usually wasn’t so bad he couldn’t get up.

With no little effort he sat up against the wall and hoped the REDs wouldn’t find him. If gods existed they clearly didn’t care about Sniper today because he could hear someone coming down the hall.

“Bushman! What are you doing?” Spy hissed.

“My back.” Sniper said. “Can’t get up.”

Spy swore under his breath. He quickly looked around and then came over to help Sniper up. With Spy supporting most of Sniper’s weight, the pair stumbled along until they could duck into a small room. They sat facing the closed door, listening for footsteps and trying to ignore their teammates' screams.

The first time the REDs had hunted them down to torture them Engineer had phoned the Administrator to ask what the hell that was. She’d pointed out that the contract they’d signed had stated that the winning team was allowed to do whatever they wanted to the losers during humiliation and unless the BLUs wanted to lose their jobs they’d better shut up and deal with it.

Another scream cut through Sniper’s thoughts and he flexed his fingers, remembering how his counterpart had yanked out each and every one of his nails.

Distantly he heard voices and doors slamming. As the noises got closer he could pick out Engineer’s and Medic’s voices.

“Are you afraid BLU’s? I promise I vill not hurt you!”

“C’mon out! Ain’t nice to run off!”

Sniper could tell by the sounds that they were going to be found soon. One look at Spy told him the spook had realized it too.

Spy took off his watch and gave it to Sniper. “Turn the face to activate it.”

Before Sniper could properly process what Spy was doing the Frenchman was on his feet and darting out the door.

“After him!”

Sniper froze as the two REDs ran by the door, their feet pounding against the wood. He heard Medic’s laughter and, if that wasn’t enough evidence to prove that Spy had been caught, loud french cursing echoed up the hall. There was the sound of a shotgun and Spy screamed.

Sniper checked the time. 

Ten minutes left.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment make my day


End file.
